


I Used to Feel Free

by KeekweeBaba



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e07 Digestivo, Someone Help Will Graham, This boyo is a fucking mess, Touch-Starved Will Graham, Will never meets Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeekweeBaba/pseuds/KeekweeBaba
Summary: Hannibal is in prison and Will needs a hug.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 269





	I Used to Feel Free

**Author's Note:**

> Written during COVID19 quarantine because I would also really like a nice hug.

“So,” Alana began pointedly, “You didn’t come here just to see me, did you, Will?”

Will tried not to squirm on the leather sofa as he met Alana’s eyes. She had changed a lot since he last saw her; her suits were stylish and expensive. She wore red lipstick which in comparison to the neutral pinks she used to wear, was almost alarming. It was like a warning sign not to fuck with her. She contrasted herself and her surroundings, instead of the soft, calming visual that blends in like she used to be.

“Uh, not exactly,” Will sighed, rubbing his eyes.

She tilted her head to the side, trying to figure out what it was.

“I wanted to see Hannibal.”

She inhaled sharply. “Come on, Will,” she sighed, disappointedly. “Surely not.”

Will couldn’t bear sitting next to her, feeling her judgement roll over him in waves. He stood up and paced over to the window with his hands in his pockets. He looked down at the car park, picking out his own car from the rest and stared at it.

“You don’t understand,” he gritted out, feeling like a twelve year old, arguing with his mom. He was agitated, and there was something small and horrible inside of him that was crying out to be soothed.

She was calm and cautious in her reply, “Help me to understand.”

Will cringed as he admitted, “I want to hug him.”

It hung in the air awkwardly. Will could have squatted down on Alana’s expensive carpet and taken a shit in the middle of the room and it would have gone down better.

After she had digested his statement, she asked him why.

Will half-turned back to her, looking at her desk instead of her.

He stumbled over his words, “He. He…knows me. He knows how I feel. He accepts me.” He licked his lips nervously, “In turn, I am the same for him.”

“You miss him.”

Will nodded, ashamed.

“I miss him too,” Alana said softly, “..the version of himself that he presented to me. I don’t miss him as he truly is.”

Will nodded, he knew this.

“What do you want, Will?”

“I want to be in a room alone with him; no barriers, no restraints, no spying on us. Just like it used to be.”

“I can’t give you that Will, he’s too dangerous.”

Will did not miss this side of her. He turned to face her again, “Please, Alana.”

She inhaled deeply, looking away. She blinked, considering for a moment and then looked back at him, a challenge in her eyes, “If I give you this, then you must promise me that you won’t come back here again.”

Will rolled his eyes, “Alana-”

“Will,” she interrupted, a warning tone in her voice, “It’s this or nothing.”

Will defiantly held her gaze before he backed down. “Fine.”

She stood up and headed to the door, dismissing him because she didn’t like what he had wanted. She put her hand on the handle but did not open it. “Come back tomorrow at 3pm.”

Will nodded, gathering up his coat and putting it on.

She opened the door and he was escorted out the building.

___________________________________________

When Will was let into Hannibal’s cell, Hannibal himself was restrained at the plexiglass, hands cuffed through the opening so that he couldn’t move as Alana let him in.

Although Will couldn’t see his face, he could feel Hannibal’s smugness and pleasure.

Alana secured the door behind Will and left without saying a word to either of them. Hannibal’s hands were then freed by an orderly and he pulled his hands back through the circle-cut openings, back into his cell. He turned around to look at Will, clasping his hands behind his back.

They were alone, and Will stood as if he regretted going through this whole ordeal to be here.

“Hello, Will.” He was greeted warmly.

“Hello, Dr. Lecter.”

“What a pleasure it is to see you again, and in such close quarters. I heard that you requested that?”

Will nodded.

A hint of a smile crept up on Hannibal’s face. He didn’t yet know Will’s reasoning for it but part the fun was finding out, opening precious Will up like a puzzle.

“Would you like to sit down?” Hannibal gestured to the seat at the table while he sat on the edge of his bed, opposite it.

Will approached nervously, removing the timer he had been given from his coat pocket and setting it on the table before he sat down. They had just under half an hour.

“Is there anything specific you want to talk about?” Hannibal asked. There was, he could tell by the way Will’s eyes kept darting to the left.

“How are you?” Will diverted.

“Considering the circumstances, I am very well. How are you, Will?”

Will swallowed, “Uh, stopped working for Jack, just teaching now.”

“That’s good. Has it made an improvement on your life?”

Will nodded. “Might quit the FBI altogether.”

“I think you should,” Hannibal replied, sincerely. “It would be good for you.”

Will took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes.

Hannibal waited patiently, he had all the time in the world.

“I came here to ask something of you,” Will finally admitted.

Hannibal’s eyes twinkled, “Yes, I thought so.” He noted the sweat on Will’s brow. “In your on time,” he relented, sitting back.

Will spent a few minutes looking down at his own shoes before he told Hannibal, albeit miserably, what it was he wanted.

Hannibal had honestly not been expecting it but he blinked once, slowly, like a cat. “Are you looking for anything specific in this embrace?” He enquired.

Will gulped audibly, “Acceptance,” he mumbled, barely audible.

Hannibal smiled, “You don’t have to ask for that from me, Will,” but he took pity on the man he found so endearing, “Would you like me to guide it?”

“Yes. Please.”

 _Lovely_ , Hannibal thought to himself. “Please, take your jacket off, make yourself more comfortable,” he requested.

Will complied, slowly, his hands trembling as he adorned the back of the chair with his coat. Hannibal hoped his scent might linger there after he left.

“Please,” Hannibal gestured, “Stand up with me when you’re ready.”

Will stood immediately, nervously, at the same time that Hannibal did. Again, he was so _lovely_.

Hannibal stood a bit taller than Will, poker straight with his arms slightly out from his body, ready and welcoming.

“Whenever, you’re ready, Will. You are in control of this.”

Will briefly frowned, he didn’t feel in control. He felt an immovable lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow away, and something in the centre of his chest that longed and cowered. He took a deep breath and looked up, briefly at Hannibal before stepping into his personal space. He draped, his arms lightly around Hannibal’s waist, almost afraid to touch even though it was what he asked for.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s back in return and inhaled deeply, holding him securely.

Will could feel the warmth of Hannibal’s body encompass him and his senses were greeted by the smell of him. It was certainly familiar, although slightly changed in the prison environment but similar enough to comfort him.

Will rested his head against Hannibal’s shoulder and the warmth coming from the layers of clothes that Will was wearing was palpable to Hannibal. He was relieved and glad that Will had forgone his aftershave today.

Hannibal’s breathing and the quiet sounds of his clothes rustling was loud and close in Will’s ears.

“May I give you a squeeze?” Hannibal asked in a soft, deep voice.

Will nodded against his shoulder and very quickly after, he felt Hannibal’s arms tighten around him, wrapping him up and bringing him even closer, if that was still possible. It was tight and Will clutched at his back, desperately.

Hannibal exhaled and with a little grunt, his grip on Will loosened. Will had never heard a sound like that come from him. Hannibal might as well have given him a secret to think about later.

Hannibal could faintly scent Will’s shampoo from where his silky, feathery hair tickled his cheek when he turned and barely hinted a nuzzle against him. Hannibal longed to delve his fingers in and rub Will’s scalp. He wondered how receptive Will would be, surely welcoming with all the emotional burdens he usually carried around with him.

They stood, still wrapped up in each other for a moment longer.

“Might I rub your back, Will?”

“Yes,” Will murmured into Hannibal’s prison attire.

Hannibal’s hand began rubbing Will’s back, firmly and comforting. His palm moulded to the contours of Will’s back, the span of his hand was a large and warm pressure moving back and forth against him.

Will finally relaxed and leaned into Hannibal’s body, reassured by the solid chest and the steadiness of the heartbeat inside it. The movement of his hand was even and repetitive. Will closed his eyes.

Doing this for Will, giving him what he needed, what he desired satisfied something ancient and _hungry_ , deep inside Hannibal. Hannibal had been aware of it but hadn’t realised the extent of its ferociousness. In an ideal world, there wouldn’t be a thirty minute timer on the exchange, and he would be able to wrap Will up in his arms and keep him there forever.

If Hannibal could ask for anything more in this moment, he would ask Will to make a little noise, a few sounds, here and there of gratification and pleasure. So far he had only heard Will’s fear and pain, and as beautiful as they were, they did not feed the hungry, feral thing inside him. He briefly imagined Will, spread out and naked, waiting on his bed, want thrumming in his veins for Hannibal’s touch. It made him salivate; he would have to picture it in more detail later.

Hannibal’s hand stopped and he exhaled a breath in a rumbling hum that was almost too close and intimate to be heard by another person.

“It will be okay, Will,” Hannibal murmured softly.

Will blinked behind his closed eyes, surprised. “I can never see you again after this.”

“So I’ve heard,” Hannibal agreed, despite wanting to contradict and argue.

He wanted to kick up a storm, sink his teeth into anyone who tried to take Will away. He wanted to rip their throats out with his canines, reach into their chest with claws and rip out their still-beating hearts.

And he wanted Will to be a witness to it.

Will was settled quietly against him, concentrating on the steady rise and fall of Hannibal’s breath. It gently lulled him quickly back to a quiet, empty mind, one where concerns about Hannibal was washed away with the tide. He was safe here, in Hannibal’s arms and the rest of the world didn’t exist beyond them.

Hannibal wondered what it would be like to do this again with Will but in less clothes. Although he had seen Will in various states of undress and touched him, platonically, many times, he knew it would be difficult with Will longing for it. What would Will look like seeking it out, making himself vulnerable again to reap the rewards of physical affection. The day that Hannibal experienced that would be his inspiration for the rest of his life; it inspired him deeply even now. Will was and would always be his muse.

Will began to think that if he had to stand up on her feet any longer that his knees might give way. He could fall asleep standing up and Hannibal could deal with his body. It was dangerous; he was feeling so sleepy and safe and warm and loved.

He had desperately needed this, he couldn’t sleep at night or wake up in the morning for his deep longing for it. The idea of never seeing Hannibal nibbled away at him, poisoning the last time Will would see him. It made him feel sick. What was he going to do tomorrow? And the day after? And the day after that? What was he going to do everyday for the rest of his life without this?

_____________________________________

When the timer went off, Will jumped in Hannibal’s arms as if woken from a deep slumber.

Alana’s voice rang out over the sound system, “Please step back and return to the plexiglas.”

Will had said something once before to Hannibal about not being able to survive separation, and if he could take it back and say it for the first time again now, he would. Without wanting to, he began to tremble again.

Hannibal took the lead, squeezing Will tightly, one last time before releasing him. They finally parted and stepped back from one another but Hannibal’s touch lingered. His fingertips ran down the length of Will’s arm to his hand, then to his fingertips. Then Hannibal’s hand dropped back down to his side and they were severed. They experienced a twin sundering, leaving them both feeling cold and bereft.

A few more orderlies than last time were waiting on the other side of the plexiglass, as if Alana expected trouble and Hannibal placidly took up his stance without complaint. He slipped each hand into a separate circle of the clear barrier and waited for an orderly to handcuff them together on the other side.

When he was secure, Will heard keys jingling and then the clunk of the lock turning and the door opening.

“Goodbye, Hannibal,” Will’s voice cracked.

It pained Hannibal to hear it but he didn’t let it show, “Until next time, Will.”

Secluded away in her office, Alana's eyes narrowed at the grainy picture of Hannibal through the cameras in her office. Hannibal knew she would pick up on that and he didn’t care, he had already decided that it was time to call Chiyoh.

**Author's Note:**

> The longest description of a hug ever written. Hope you enjoyed my yearning for human contact expressed through Will Graham. 
> 
> Might have gotten a bit horndog on Hannibal's end, whoops!


End file.
